At the gate, Lips balls up the scarf and tosses it to Ron. The security guard lets it drop to the floor and then kicks it. The scarf doesn’t go very far, but it’s on the other side of the gate, out of reach.

Rather than crying or begging for it back, the girl drops her hands and lifts her chin. Still, tears shine silver on her dark skin.

Wolf focuses on Ron. “Did you find November?”

“No sign of him.” He shrugs. “I’m starting to think he turned tail.”

Mole says, “No way, dude. He was right there with us. He even took the first shot.”

Ron shakes his head. “So what? The rest of us have seen combat. Like most civilians, he can talk a good game. But when the rubber meets the road, they’re all candy asses.”

“Watch your mouth.” Wolf’s tone is a whip. “Our brother’s no coward.”

*   *   *

Our brother? Parker looks from Lips to Mole to Wolf. Lips is short and scrawny. But he can see a resemblance between Mole and Wolf even with their features obscured by ski masks. Both of them with pale eyes and tall, rangy builds. So the missing man—November—must be their brother.

Moxie is still crying and flailing. Stanford finally lets her go, and she runs to Parker. She presses her hot, wet face against his belly. He just hopes he’s strong enough to push her away if the hostages attack him again.

“Do you seriously think they’re going to let us go?” Heels whispers to their group. “If anyone else tries to save us, they’ll just kill them, like those poor cops. But there’s only four of them and a couple dozen of us.”

“With our hands zip tied,” the guy in the Blazers gear points out. Blazers adds, “And there could be more that we don’t know about. Like that security guard who just popped out of nowhere.”

*   *   *

At the gate, Lips says, “The last time I saw November was upstairs.”

“Maybe somebody up there jumped him,” Mole says. “We need to go look for him.”

“I already checked the cams, and I didn’t see him on any of them,” Ron says. “Not upstairs. Not down. And he’s not in the service corridors. I think he took off.” When a snippet of music begins to play, he pulls his phone from his pocket with his free hand. He looks down. “From the caller ID, it looks like they might have figured out who I really am.”

“Take it,” Wolf says. “You know what to say.”

Ron pushes a button and lifts the phone to his ear. “Yeah?” Keeping his voice low, he moves farther away.

*   *   *

As he rubs Moxie’s shoulders, Parker toggles his attention back and forth between Heels and the killers.